My Syllables

Eminem, Ca$his, Jay-Z, 50 Cent, Stat Quo, Dr. Dre

It is not about lyrics anymore It's about a hot beat and a catchy hook If we gotta dumb down our style and A-B-C it Then so be it, 'cause nowadays These kids just Don't give a shit 'bout lyrics All they wanna hear is a beat and that's it Long as they can go to The club and get blitzed Pick up some chicks and get some digit's And the DJ's playing them hit's "Oh, this my jam! This my shit! We don't know a word to a verse All we know is the chorus 'Cause the chorus repeats the same Four words for us" and the song's ginormous The whole formula's switched 'Cause we don't know anymore what are hit's Is it the beat? Is it the rap? Is it a finger snap or the same 808 clap? And how do we adapt and get TRL votes When thirteen-year-olds control the remotes? And Ashlee's got a brand new nose We gotta put some new em-pha-sis On our syl la la-bles If the emphasis on the compact Disc is in the beat Then I'm gon' feature Em and get rich And let Dre mix the shit And drive off in the Range Ro' 'Cause everywhere I go they love the "bling-bling" flow! Bang bang, look at the way my chain glow The ring on my fing' cost your Man a lot of dough (Oh) The fuck am I bustin' my brain fo'? It's just the way the game go and, oh It takes two to tango You call this a lame flow? You bought the shit I guess you to blame too I just found an angle (Ha ha ha) No more reality flow I'm tryna time my album dropping With a reality show Cock the MAC-11 in front of Hot 97 And call my publicist Tell her we in press heaven (Ha ha) No one gives a shit except Some kids that just got into Sex on the Internet So you want the chatroom or The house in Malibu? Em, your emphasis is on the Wrong syl la la-ble They said thirty's the new twenty, funny Must mean forty's the new thirty, interesting 'Cause ever since then, it's Been, in a sense, an extension For veteran rappers that are Better than half of The shit comin' out right now, it's all trash The torch is gonna burn out Before it gets passed JAY said it's his last, then 50 and Em Then what? Detox drops, what do we got then? So now our whole camps is runnin' around Scrambling over what to do Gamblin' every time we put a record out Just lookin' for that hook (Wait, Dre, look) Shorty, I love you and you love me too We were meant to be 'Cause, shorty, you love me And I love you too And I promise I'll be true to you Go shawty, it's your birthday (Woo) You made it just in time to hear my wordplay It's the kid that flip flows Who used to flip O's and run G for days You should see how I get hoes I'm international I get my dick licked 'round the globe I'm sick right into shows, ridin' on lolos (yeah) puffin' on coco, my bitch in Manolos Don't fuck with the dodos That's slang for dumb hoes (Oh) I'm playin', I ain't got time to joke, joke You fuck around, you could Get your ass smoked, loc It's not a game, me, B, I ain't playin' Beat behind me playin' So you don't hear anyway You don't hear what I'm sayin' Me fin-nini na, fee-fi-fididee yay Just give me my check and I'll be on my way Sunny, bunny, money and funny You ain't even listening and I Just took your money (Ha) There once was a time everywhere you turned ('Where you turned) Shady-Aftermath was all you heard But they say 50 sang too much And Em got soft (Got soft) And they say Dre just fell the fuck off (Woo) Well, fuck the fuck-offs! All y'all eat salt Be mad, we back, fresh up outta the vault Oh! New syl la la-bles, eat ball You fuck-offs your house, your bitch I'm getting sucked off East, South, Midwest, even up North Falling victim to wax, spitting Bring out the white chalk All for the gingerbread We get it and get lost catch me if you can I'm runnin' past while y'all walk Shady made me for bringin' it back 'Fore the history of rap is gone with a snap A snare and a clap What happened to just spittin' 'Bout livin' in the motherfuckin' City you at? In the grimiest condition, I breathe in drama King Mathers and Cash me that's free karma I'm everything, anything you can never be It's a hidden rhyme of the Month deep in the beef I speak with a piece, no peace on my mind I repeat every evil deed done of mine (yeah) No rest contest, contract to sign By blood, I'm in this squad for life Air out my windpipes, and I just chime I'm the reason you guys won't say that line I'm crazy, renegade like Em and Jay-Z I'm Rosemary's baby, I want you to hate me Shorty, I love you and you love me too We were meant to be 'Cause, shorty, you love me And I love you too And I promise I'll be true to you It is not about lyrics anymore It is not about lyrics anymore It's about a hot beat, a hot beat It's about a hot beat, a hot beat A hot-hot-hot beat and a catchy hook A hot-hot-hot beat and a catchy hook Nobody gives a damn about them syllables Syl la la-bles, whatever they are I don't care if you gotta rhyme "schmoe " "mo, " "Joe, " "toe, " and "glow" Now, get out there and Sell some goddamn records! Now, get out there and Sell some goddamn records! Now, get out there and Sell some goddamn records! Now, get out there and Sell some goddamn records! Now, get out there and Sell some goddamn records! Now, get out there and Sell some goddamn records! Now, get out there and Sell some goddamn records! Now, get out there and sell some

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My Syllables

Eminem, Ca$his, Jay-Z, 50 Cent, Stat Quo, Dr. Dre

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